Power of Sacrifice
by Laqualassiel
Summary: Aslan is not there to greet the Instead, they are welcomed to the camp by Arielle, a human girl with a past… and a Mystery and prophecy aside, she promises Peter she'll free What the Pevensie's don't realize is that the price for Edmund's life is as costly as they
1. Arrival at Aslan's Camp

_The law of sacrifice is uniform throughout the world. To be effective it demands the sacrifice of the bravest and the most spotless._ ~ Mahatma Gandhi

Disclaimer: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia, be it book or movie. I only own Arielle and any deviation from the established plot.

* * *

_When Winter holds its breath_

_and Spring begins anew_

_a Sacrificial death_

_upon the Table entombed._

* * *

"Milady." Hazel eyes snapped open at the low voice coming from behind her. The wind played across the girl's light brown hair as she stared at the castle on the horizon - Cair Paravel, her former home. "The dryads have sighted the beavers and three humans." As usual, Oreius was succinct.

The girl turned to the centaur and General of Aslan's army. "Only three?" her voice, a light alto, carried a calm yet defined air to it. Oreius nodded, and the girl frowned. "Is there any news of Aslan?"

"No Milady." He replied shortly.

The girl sighed, casting one last look at the castle before scooping up a bladed staff from where it rested in the grass. "That isn't surprising. Come, let us welcome our guests." Then, as easily as any faun, she bounded down the steep face of the hill over looking the camp. Oreius followed, coming down the other side and cantering around to the front.

It was not difficult to locate the beavers and their charges. Like a breeze parting the tall grass of a plain, the soldiers parted before the humans, bowing as they paused in whatever task they had. The girl felt a small smile grace her lips at the sight of the kind Mrs. Beaver nervously patting at her fur, only to be gently reassured by Mr. Beaver.

Her gaze then traveled to the three humans. The youngest, with auburn hair that only reached her chin and wearing a modest dress and shoes. Her eyes were bright, filled with wonder, and she smiled at the soldiers as she passed them. A dagger and cordial were belted to her small waist.

The eldest girl wore a white button down shirt that had no doubt once been tucked neatly into her red and green plaid skirt. Her eyes also held the wonder of a person who'd never before seen the glory of Narnia, but under the amazement, she could see a sense of caution. A bow and quiver of arrows peeked over the dark brunette's shoulder, and a horn could been seen slung over the other.

The last human was the blonde Son of Adam. He too, wore a button down shirt, as well as a pair of pants and suspenders. Out of the three, the girl noted that he was the most observant. While wonder did register in his blue eyes, caution and grim acceptance outweighed the emotion as he saw the piles of weapons and armor. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, a habit he had most likely just recently acquired.

The girl also took note of the way the boy studied her when she took position at the front of the camp - the position of a leader. When his sisters stepped forward and knelt by the beavers, he followed a second after.

_He has good awareness of his surroundings, and a grasp of the severity of the situation_ already, the girl thought. _He is protective of his family._

"Rise, please." The girl requested, holding her hand out in a placating manner. "I am Arielle, leader of this camp in Aslan's stead. This is General Oreius." Arielle introduced, indicating the centaur beside her. Oreius bowed his head to the three humans.

The boy stepped forward. "I am Peter Pevensie, and these are my sisters, Susan and Lucy." He replied, nodding first to the eldest, and then to the youngest with the dagger.

Arielle gave them each a respectful nod, before turning and smiling to the Beavers. "I thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, for guiding them all this way. It is not a short distance from here to the Lantern Waste." Mrs. Beaver ducked her head, and if it were not for the fur, Arielle would have sworn she was blushing.

"Ma'am," Mr. Beaver spoke, an anxious undercurrent to his tone. "We were told that we would meet Aslan here." At the reminder, the Pevensie's tensed.

Arielle's smile became regretful. "Aslan has not been seen for over a week." She held up a hand to quiet their gasps. "It is not uncommon, and there is no need for alarm. After all, my old friend is not a _tame_ lion."

However, the Pevensie's worry did not dissipate. "Do you know when he'll come back?" Peter asked.

Arielle shook her head. "I presume your worry has its roots in your brother?"

Susan nodded. "Edmund went to the White Witch."

This was not the right thing to say.

Instantly, the soldiers growled and hissed, while Oreius snapped, "Then he is a traitor!" Peter bristled at the accusation, his protectiveness showing true.

"Peace, everyone." Arielle ordered. Soldiers stilled, and tempers were calmed. She shot a subtle glance at Oreius that did not go unnoticed by its intended recipient. "Let us not jump to conclusions. Many have been tricked by Jadis. All will reveal itself in due course."

"Now," Arielle's face lost the imposing edge of a leader, and she suddenly looked like a young woman again. "Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, if you would be willing to show Peter, Susan, and Lucy to their tents, and help them find some clean clothes. Afterwards," Her gaze caught Peter's. "I'd like to speak to Peter."

* * *

Peter exited his tent, freshly outfitted in a tunic, jerkin, pants and comfortable boots. His sword was belted to his waist, that after a moment's debate, had decided not to leave with his shield in his tent. He felt more comfortable with it by his side.

He looked around, but there was no sign of the brunette in the camp. Oreius was a short distance from his tent, gazing at a set of maps. Feeling Peter's gaze, the centaur looked up. Peter clenched his jaw, remembering how he had labeled his younger brother.

With difficulty, Peter broke his gaze with the General and looked at the rest of the camp. Many of the soldiers were stockpiling weapons - most notably throwing daggers, arrows, and other missiles. That observation drove home the fact that the danger was very real. He and his family had landed in the middle of another war.

Susan and Lucy were not in the camp either, Peter noted. He stamped down the rising worry. Susan wouldn't let Lucy wander off by herself, and Susan knew not to wander far from the camp. They were fine.

He took a breath to settle himself and walked over to Oreius. "Excuse me." The centaur looked up from the maps. "Do you know where I can find Arielle?" Peter asked coolly.

Oreius gestured towards a steep hill overlooking the camp. Squinting against the afternoon sun, he could barely make out a small silhouette. Peter gave a nod of thanks before clambering up the side of the hill.

And there was Arielle, sitting on the rocky outcrop, her staff next to her. She gazed off into the distance, lost in thought. He studied her for a moment, trying to get a sense of her. From earlier, Peter knew she respected him. Her smiles and words indicated kindness, but the way she held herself and commanded calm after the mention of Edmund showed respected authority. And if the way she held the staff as if it were an extension of herself were any clue, then she was a skilled warrior as well.

Peter cleared his throat. "You wanted to speak to me?"

* * *

Peter's question jolted Arielle out of her thoughts. Mentally scolding herself for not being more aware, she nodded, and patted the rock beside her. "Sit with me for a moment." She heard him hesitate before taking the spot she had offered. Her gaze returned to the view of Cair Paravel. Silence descended upon the pair.

About to inquire as to why Arielle wanted to speak to him, Peter was unprepared for Arielle's statement. "Cair Paravel." He blinked, then followed her gaze to the horizon where a castle could be seen. "It has stood for over 600 years, since the Age of Enlightenment when Aslan first prophesied the coming of you and your siblings. In the castle there are four untouched thrones." Arielle turned to look at him, her piercing eyes again locking onto his. "One of these, Peter, belongs to you."

He sighed and looked away. Arielle tilted her head. "You doubt yourself." It was not a question.

Peter ran a hand through his hair. Of course he doubted himself! How could he be the King of a country he'd never been to before? "I'm just not sure I'm who everyone thinks I am." He countered exasperatedly. "I'm no King! I'm just - "

"Peter Pevensie, of Finchley." Arielle finished. Peter jerked, startled. Arielle smiled. "Mr. Beaver told me. He also said that you planned on making him into a hat." Peter's lips twitched into a smile at the memory. "As for you not being a King? I recall saying something similar when Aslan told me I was to be Queen, 600 years ago."

"I beg your pardon?" Yelped Peter.

Arielle chuckled. "Yes, Peter. Arielle the Faithful, Lady of the Lantern Wastes, Queen of Narnia. But to my family, I'll always be Arielle Carter from Boston."

"You're from Earth as well?"

"Yep. Born 1927, second eldest of five." Arielle chirped. "This is my second time to Narnia. The first time I fell out of the loft in the horse stables on my grandfather's farm. I was eleven. Not a pleasant landing when I got back. Josephine, my older sister, and my younger brother Ronald, who was five, got a kick out of embarrassing me when they realized I was alright."

Peter nodded knowingly. "They never let you forget it either, do they?" Arielle shook her head. "Lucy actually led us here, through an old wardrobe. We didn't believe her at first..." His eyes hardened. "I promised I would keep them safe, only now I've led them from one war to another."

Arielle raised an eyebrow. "Peter, this camp is the safest place for them in Narnia right now, war or not. And let us not forget that _you_ led them here, all the way from the Lantern Wastes."

He shook his head. "Not all of them."

Arielle gazed out in the direction of the forests. "I promise you Peter, I will do all I can to help your brother. On that you have my word, both as a Queen and as an elder sister."

In the distance, a horn sounded, and time seemed to stop.

"Susan!" Peter cried.

* * *

**Yeah, Yeah, I know. I shouldn't be starting _another_ story when I already have so many I need to work on. But my imagination wouldn't let this one rest, so hopefully I'll be able to work on the other stories when I'm not working on this one.**

**So sue me.**

**Other than that, your reviews are always welcome, even if it is as an anonymous viewer. I hate to ask, but reviews tell me that people are reading the story, and if they like it or not. It's a major motivation for me.**

**But I'm not going to force you to write reviews.**

**So, if you have any questions, I'll try to answer them either by PM or in the next Author's Note.**

**Tata for now!**

**~Lassie**


	2. Wolf's - Bane

_Let us sacrifice our today so that our children can have a better tomorrow. _~ Abdul Kalam

Disclaimer: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia, be it book or movie. I only own Arielle and any deviation from the established plot.

* * *

_When Winter holds its breath_

_and Spring begins anew_

_a Sacrificial death_

_upon the Table entombed_

* * *

_Last Time:_

_Arielle gazed out in the direction of the forests. "I promise you Peter, I will do all I can to help your brother. On that you have my word, both as a Queen and as an elder sister."_

_In the distance, a horn sounded, and time seemed to stop._

_"Susan!" Peter cried._

* * *

Peter's long legs swiftly carried him down the hill and through the camp. Arielle followed him, pausing only to bark out a set of orders to Oreius. But while Peter had a good few inches on her in height, Arielle had been born to run. She seemed to fly through the woods, easily keeping up with the blonde king.

"Down by the river bank!" Arielle called to Peter, hefting her staff as she cleared a fallen tree. Peter nodded, slowing slightly to draw his sword. _Jadis will not take them,_ Arielle silently vowed, her gray eyes glinting like steel, _Not like last time._

The two of them burst through the foliage, making the two wolves snapping at Susan's feet whirl towards them. Peter ran across the shallow river, shouting, "Get away from them!"

One of the wolves laughed, and sneered at Peter. "Well, look what the cat dragged in! And the cat herself! Lady Fortune is smiling today!" Arielle narrowed her eyes at wolf, recognition finally dawning on her. Maugrim, the Captain of Jadis's secret police force. She brought her staff up, and the second wolf backed up to avoid the twelve inch blade. She spun, catching the wolf on the held with the metal ring on the opposite end.

The wolf fell over, dazed, and Arielle closed in, placing the blade at the wolf's neck. If the wolf so much as moved, she'd be able to kill it. To Maugrim, she said in an icily calm tone, "Indeed, Lady Fortune is smiling - just not on you." For a moment, Arielle could see fear flash through the Captain's eyes.

But then he turned his gaze back to Peter, who had fear written all over him, from the white knuckled death grip he had on his sword to the stiffness in his shoulders. Maugrim's lip curled, and he took a step forward. Peter instantly took a step back, and the wolf laughed. "We've already been through this boy! You're no hero!"

Above, Lucy called out a warning. Peter's jaw clenched, and his grip tightened further. Arielle watched on with concern. Peter had some talent with the weapon, but the lack of confidence and proper training was enough of a hindrance that against a more powerful foe would end up getting him killed.

Underneath Arielle, the second wolf tensed his muscles. The girl dropped her staff and grabbed his scruff in one hand while drawing one of her short swords - slender blades about as long as her forearm - in the other. Feeling the steady cold metal against his neck, the wolf wisely heeded the warning and stilled.

Thundering hooves announced the arrival of Oreius and a squadron of fauns and large cats. The centaur rode towards Maugrim, two swords in hand, ready to cut the Captain into ribbons.

"Halt!" Arielle commanded. Oreius came to a stop, and Maugrim risked a glance at the young Queen. Her eyes were locked on Peter. "This is not _our_ fight." She knew Maugrim - he was all bark and very little bite to back it up. If Peter was to truly master that blade of his, then he needed to believe in himself first.

Peter swallowed hard, knowing exactly what Arielle wanted him to do. Only, he didn't know if he could do it.

Sensing his hesitation, Maugrim scoffed. "Face it boy, you can't kill anything!" The wolf crouched, tensed to spring.

"Look out!" Susan screamed as he jumped at Peter, knocking both of them to the ground. No one moved.

And then Peter was sitting up, pushing the corpse of Captain Maugrim off of him, only to be tackled moments later by his two relieved sisters. Arielle smiled, before returning her attention to her captive. He would know the location of Jadis's camp, and if Edmund wasn't there, Arielle would eat her staff. She stood, letting the wolf scamper away. "Follow him. He'll lead you to Edmund." Oreius nodded, and quickly gave chase with his squad.

Arielle sheathed her sword and picked up her staff before drawing near the three Pevensies. "Peter." He glanced up, and the Queen gestured to his bloodied blade. "Clean your sword." He did and, as if some force guided him, knelt before Arielle.

"Peter Pevensie, in protecting the lives of your sisters, Susan and Lucy, you have slain the beast Maugrim." Arielle intoned. At the last words, the boy winced slightly. The Queen made a mental note to talk to Peter about his first kill - as Gariv had done for her. She forced the memory down and continued, "As such, from this day forth you will be known as Sir Peter Wolf's-Bane, member of the Order of the Lion, Knight of Narnia."

Peter stood, sheathing Rhindon. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Arielle shook her head. "Simply Arielle is sufficient, Lady Arielle if you insist. But please, do not address me as 'Majesty.' The four of you will be Queens and Kings soon enough, and my reign ended long ago."

Lucy stared. "You were a queen?!" She asked excitedly.

Arielle chuckled and knelt to her height. "As Aslan has said at every coronation since the beginning of Narnia, 'Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia.' In other words, Lucy, yes I was. I still am one, though I will not be the ruling monarch."

"Wow..." Lucy gasped. "What's it like, being a Queen?"

Memories flooded to the surface, and Arielle couldn't stop the flash of grief that skittered over her face for a moment. She forcefully pushed the images of her home, her friends, of _Gariv,_ to the back of her mind, and smiled at the young Queen - to - be who fortunately had not seen Arielle's slip. She put on a kind smile. "Well, after the coronation, I got to learn so many different things - like how to ride a horse, and what the rest of the world was like -"

Susan and Peter discretely slowed their pace, increasing the distance between them and the two girls while still keeping them within sight. Unknown to the leader of Aslan's camp, they _had_ seen the flash of emotion Lucy's question had brought out. "I don't trust her." Susan stated. "She's hiding something."

Peter frowned. "Her reign was 600 years ago. I'm guessing it wasn't exactly peaceful, but that doesn't mean she means us harm."

How can you be sure?" Susan countered. "We don't know anything about her! For all we know she could be as bad or worse than the White Witch-"

"She gave me her word." Peter interrupted. Susan blinked. "Arielle promised she'd do all that she could to help Edmund, which is more than anyone else has done. So for now, I'll put my trust in her and Aslan." With that, Peter picked up the pace again, effectively ending the conversation.

* * *

Upon entering the camp again, Arielle excused herself for a moment, disappearing among the tents. A moment later though, she was back again, carrying a leather wrapped bundle in her free hand. "Ainkirk!" A dwarf with a reddish beard braided in two thick braids looked up from where he was setting aside a freshly sharpened scimitar. "Could you find Nighthoof and Capricus and come with them to the main training fields?"

The short dwarf bowed. "Yes, My Lady." Making sure the sword wouldn't fall over, he ran off, dodging other soldiers with a grace surprising for his stocky stature. Arielle then gestured for the three of them to follow her.

Susan shot Arielle a confused glance as she struggled to keep up with the older girl's pace. "Where are we going?"

Her response was a grim smile and a nod towards a large open field where one could see large open fields and a row of targets. Some warriors and archers were there practicing. "While your safety is pretty much guaranteed within the borders of this camp, the unexpected can always occur, nor do I wish to restrict your freedom. Therefore, the three of you are going to learn how to defend yourselves. _Properly_." She added to Peter who'd opened his mouth. "Maugrim may have been Captain of Jadis's secret police, but he was a spy, not a warrior. Were you to face a minotaur, cyclops, werewolf, or something else of like from Jadis's army, you wouldn't have lasted three seconds." Peter closed his mouth and nodded.

"Father Christmas seems to have outfitted you three well," Arielle observed, noting the familiar make of the weapons. "Peter, you'll be working with Capricus, a Satyr who can teach you to fight with a sword, and later with your shield as well. Listen to him. Susan, Nighthoof will give you a crash course on archery. Beyond that, it is simply practice. However, I also want you to learn to wield a short sword." Arielle said.

The dark brunette frowned. "Why?"

"Close combat." Arielle explained. "Unless you are fast enough, archery is useless in close quarters. Nighthoof is one of our best dual blade masters. She'll teach you well. That is also what this is for." Arielle set the leather bundle down with a muffled clank of metal. Unrolling it, she revealed an assortment of blades from knives to a hand and a half sword. "When I'm done talking, you and Lucy will find swords that suit you, and Ainkirk can teach Lucy - they are similiar in size."

"But, I already have a sword." Lucy said, showing Arielle her dagger.

"Ah, yes." The Queen replied, unsheathing her short sword. "But which has a better reach? My sword or your dagger?" Lucy looked from her dagger - a six inch blade - to Arielle's sword which was at least double in length. Her gray eyes gentled as she added, "You don't have to use it Lucy, but I'd rather you know how to use it, and never have to, than not have one and be in a situation where you _need _it." The eight year old nodded, and Susan and Peter exchanged glances. Somehow, Arielle had picked up on Lucy's dislike of violence and found a compromise for the youngest Pevensie.

"What about me?" Peter asked, eyeing the pile of swords somewhat nervously. He rather preferred his own.

Arielle shook her head. "There isn't enough time - besides, you'll have plenty of versatility with your shield, and the option of single or double handed with your sword." Her gaze focused on something over Peter's shoulder, and he turned to see three figures coming.

"Lady Arielle." The female centaur said. "Ainkirk said you wished to see us?"

Arielle smiled up at the great warrior. "Yes. The Pevensies have talent, but they lack proper training. Would you three be willing to teach them?"

Nighthoof looked at Susan, studying the girl from head to toe. Peter and Lucy found themselves undergoing similar scrutiny. Then, one by one, the three teachers nodded their consent. Minutes later, Susan and Lucy had both chosen their secondary weapons - a spatha for Susan, and a Hoplite short sword for Lucy - and the three were ushered away by their various teachers. Arielle rolled the bundle up and walked back to the supply tents, placing the weapons back before heading towards the food tent to see if she could grab a roll - she'd missed lunch and her stomach was loudly voicing its discontent.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**So, here's the second chapter! I can't believe that I'm actually cranking these things out. Yay to no writer's block!**

**Alright, so as people send me questions via review or PM, I'll answer them by sending a PM in return or if 1) It is a guest review or 2) a lot of people are asking the same question, I will post the answer to the question in the Author's Note in the upcoming chapter.**

**To Lady Hannah, who asked whether this will be a Peter/OC or an Edmund/OC story: Not in this story. This is simply the first in a series of three stories, and frankly, Arielle will not be in Narnia long enough to do much more than become acquaintances with the Pevensies. The Sequel will take place during Prince Caspian, but there won't be much romance there. It'll be in the final installment where the romance will bloom, so feel free to read until then!**

**As always, I appreciate comments, critiques, ideas, any thoughts you may have, questions that need clarification, and the sort. And those who can tell me the meaning of the title get a preview of the upcoming chapter!**

**Thanks for reading,**

**~Lassie**


	3. Guilt and Hatred

_I think that the good and the great are only separated by the willingness to sacrifice._ ~ Kareem Abdul-Jabbar

Disclaimer: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia, be it book or movie. I only own Arielle and any deviation from the established plot.

* * *

_When Winter holds its breath_

_and Spring begins anew_

_a Sacrificial death_

_upon the Table entombed_

* * *

_Last Time:_

_Arielle smiled up at the great warrior. "Yes. The Pevensies have talent, but they lack proper training. Would you three be willing to teach them?"_

_Nighthoof looked at Susan, studying the girl from head to toe. Peter and Lucy found themselves undergoing similar scrutiny. Then, one by one, the three teachers nodded their consent. Minutes later, Susan and Lucy had both chosen their secondary weapons - a spatha for Susan, and a Hoplite short sword for Lucy - and the three were ushered away by their various teachers. Arielle rolled the bundle up and walked back to the supply tents, placing the weapons back before heading towards the food tent to see if she could grab a roll - she'd missed lunch and her stomach was loudly voicing its discontent._

* * *

Arielle sighed, rubbing tired eyes as she stared at the numbers before her. The reports of her spies had come back earlier that day, and the picture they painted was not a pleasing one.

They'd need to double their army to match the numbers Jadis had, and even if that were to happen, Arielle simply didn't have the resources to arm and armor all of them. They were outmanned and outgunned.

'_Enough, Arielle,'_ She told herself. Now was not the time to begin doubting Aslan. '_Numbers do not win battles,_' she recalled Gariv telling her as they poured over the logistics together. She'd been seventeen at the time, and there had been possibilities of an attack from the Calormenes, Narnia's long - time enemy. The Calormene Army and Navy had far outnumbered their own.

She wished Gariv was there, the man knew his way around strategy as if it were a second nature to him, and while he had passed on some of his skill Arielle, her skill would never match up to his.

Nor would many of her other skills. While she could beat him in a staff spar, he easily overpowered and outmaneuvered her using any type of sword or missile. And while he had towered over her at six and a half feet tall, Gariv had exuded a sense of calm and authority that lent comfort to Arielle in times of conflict and stress.

Gariv had been her rock, her foundation. The first person she turned to when she needed one she could count on to always be there for her.

And she hadn't been there for him.

Arielle sighed. '_What would you do Gariv, if you were here?_' A yawn escaped her, and she realized that her candle had almost burned out. A small smile twitched her lips. '_You'd tell me to stop worrying and get some sleep._' Without further thought, Arielle set aside the spy reports and gently blew out the remains of the candle. She fell asleep the moment her head hit her pillow.

* * *

_Clang. Thud. Wham. "Oof!" Arielle groaned as the world spun and her back hit the stones of the small courtyard she and Gariv were sparring in. Thankfully, she hadn't dropped either of her two swords - one of today's lessons. "Ow.."_

_Gariv cocked an eyebrow, leaning on the metal quarterstaff he'd been wielding with deadly precision. "Not bad, Milady. The block was good, but you were focused on the end of my staff. The twist of my torso would have alerted you to that kick."_

_Arielle scrunched her nose at her teacher. "That's a load of bull and you know it, Master Gariv."_

_Her reply - though decidedly childish - was enough to get the elder teen to crack a smile. "Perhaps not." He held out a hand. "Shall we try it again, Milady?"_

_Grumbles were what he received in terms of a response, but Arielle took his hand as he helped her to her feet. Then, without so much as a warning, she pulled, throwing the taller warrior off balance and swept his feet out from under him. It was Arielle's turn to grin down at her disgruntled opponent. "You assumed I was finished." Gariv blinked before laughing out loud. Indeed, he had forgotten the first lesson he'd taught her!_

_"Well said." a voice said as deep chuckles joined their laughter, making the two look over to the courtyard entrance. Arielle's face lit up with excitement. "Aslan!" She cried, dropping her weapons in favor of running to give the Great Cat an enthusiastic hug. A moment later though, she pulled away, her hands going to her hips. "You're late! You told me you'd be here at the full moon, and that was a week ago!"_

_The lion didn't even blink. "I apologize for that, my dear." An amused gleam entered his golden eyes. "If you wish, I could ask Father Time to take us back to the night of the full moon."_

_"No!" The girl protested, paling underneath her tanned face. King Gale II had held a feast and ball that night in honor of his new Champion - in other words, her. It had been an utter _nightmare_, what with every male with an ounce of skill sizing her up and every _other_ eligible male asking her for a dance. Dinner had been a test of her diplomatic skills and her emotional control - she had wanted to murder several of the dignitaries by the time the main course arrived._

_One would think a representative of a country would not ask stupid questions._

_Behind her, Gariv chuckled. "Come now, Milady, t'was not absolutely terrible."_

_Arielle glared. "Of course it wasn't." She said, sarcasm dripping from her words. "_You_ got to eat in peace and dance with pretty ladies all night with out a care in the world! _I _on the other hand, had to fend off the wolves until I could think of an appropriate excuse to leave. So pardon me if I don't share your enthusiasm for such events."__  
_

_"How are things here at the castle?" Aslan asked before their usual bantering could get out of hand. Arielle frowned and pursed her lips._

_"On the surface, everything appears to be fine, which is most likely why no one is concerned." She reported. "But with King Gale's failing health, that illusion is bound to disappear soon. Some of the dignitaries have already begun to suspect something's amiss."_

_Gariv nodded. "The soldiers also wonder if everything is alright. Many were... displeased... with the King's choice of Champion."_

_"A displeasure that I've no doubt reinforced with my acting the incompetent damsel." Arielle winced. "Just remember that this was _your_ idea, Master Gariv." She added, shooting him a terse look._

_"Would it be preferable to you that Lord Delbern know of your true skill?" Gariv countered. The girl made a face. Lord Delbern, a knight from Calormene and probably the most detestable man Arielle had the displeasure of meeting, most certainly knew the king would not be living for much longer. He also knew that with no heir, the throne of Narnia would be free for claim by any Son of Adam or Daughter of Eve, and humans were not exactly a prominent race in the world of Narnia._

_That was where Arielle came in. Should Lord Delbern make a claim for the Narnian throne, her task would be to challenge that claim while making it clear that she was not looking to take the throne herself._

_Arielle had no issue with that. Being Queen was not something she wanted to do. And besides, how could she rule Narnia? She was just a girl from Boston! But King Gale II had treated her with kindess, and Arielle would do everything she could to protect the man she'd come to view as a grandfather to her._

_Aslan nodded, and turned towards the castle. A breeze wandered through the courtyard, and a leaf brushed up against her cheek._

_'Milady...' Arielle blinked, raising a hand to touch the spot where the leaf had tickled her. She turned to reply to Gariv, but Gariv was no longer there._

_'Milady... Mil_ady... Lady Arielle!" Arielle's eyes flew open, her hand reaching for the dagger hidden under her pillow. As she was about to draw it, she recognized the form of one of the dryad scouts, illuminated by the predawn light, and relaxed her guard. "General Oreius and his party have been sighted. No one is seriously injured, and Oreius is carrying a Son of Adam upon his back."

Arielle smiled before blinking at the dryad's last words. Oreius was carrying Edmund on his back? It was an honor for a Centaur to allow someone to ride upon their backs, and from the way Oreius had accused the young King earlier, it was surprising the General would extend such a courtesy to him.

Still, they'd arrive in camp soon. No doubt Edmund would be utterly exhausted, but Arielle wanted to talk to him before he had to face his siblings and the rest of the camp.

She dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of breeches and boots, and tucking in her white tunic before grabbing her staff and exiting the tent. In the east, the sky began to lighten, indicating the sun would rise in less than an hour, waking the camp with it. The sound of hooves drew her attention to the camp entrance, just as Oreius and his party rode through. And just as the dryad had said, there was Edmund, trying not to fall off of Oreius's back.

"How went it?" Arielle asked the centaur as he turned to help Edmund dismount. The poor boy practically fell off though, his knees buckling as he hit the ground. Arielle reached forward, catching him before he could discover what the grass tasted like.

"About as well as could be hoped, Milady." Oreius replied as he dismissed the rest of the squad for some needed rest. "Their camp had very little protection or guard, and we struck at twilight, before most of the troops could wake. We found the boy in the center of camp, bound and gagged. We incapacitated the single guard - though he seemed to be more of a tormentor than someone supposed to be watching him."

Arielle nodded, and dismissed the centaur, before turning to study the last of the Pevensies. He stood a bit shorter than Peter, with dark hair like Susan, but had the same brown eyes as his youngest sibling. Edmund too, studied her, but unlike Peter's wariness of threats coming from a need to protect his family, Edmund's search also held an air of self preservation to it. She also noticed that Edmund put more effort into determining whether or not he could trust her.

So when she gave him a sincere smile and said, "Welcome to Aslan's Camp, Edmund," she could tell that Edmund realized she didn't intend him any ill will. He relaxed, and gave a half smile in return. "Walk with me." Arielle stated, her tone implying a request. At Edmund's hesitation, she added, "Only to the top of the hill." She indicated the hill where she had spoken with Peter the previous day.

Edmund followed her this time, stumbling a bit as she led him up the gradual side of the hill. When she sat at the edge of the stone overhang, he hesitated again, but sat by her once he saw the distance between Arielle and her staff. "I would ask if you are alright, but that would be a foolish question. You show no physical wounds, though I'm afraid those are not the wounds that hurt the most."

"What would you know?" Edmund snapped.

"You feel guilt for betraying your family, and fear for how they may receive you." Arielle answered softly. "This fear gives birth to the anger and self hate you have, and you wonder how you could have even fallen for Jadis's tricks in the first place. I will tell you this now, Edmund: I will not judge you. Not when so many others have been tricked by Jadis as well."

Again, brown eyes met her hazel as Edmund searched them for any trace of a lie. Then, his shoulders slumped, and the strong defenses he'd built crumbled away to reveal the young boy underneath. "The Witch tempted me, with power and sweets, and when the beaver mentioned the army -"

"You were jealous of Peter." Arielle finished, as Edmund took a breath and nodded reluctantly. "There's no need to be ashamed of that Edmund. It's normal to be jealous - we are only human after all. We make mistakes."

At her last words, Edmund frowned. "Milady -"

"Arielle."

"Huh?"

"Call me Arielle, please. I get enough of the Milady, and Your Majesty stuff from the troops. Besides, unless you start calling your siblings by those titles as well, then it won't exactly be fair, as I'm no older than your brother." Edmund snorted. Like he would ever call Peter 'Your Majesty.'

"Arielle, why does the White Witch hate you?" Arielle frowned in confusion. What had brought up that question? Seeing the look, Edmund added, "She mentioned it back at her castle - that she wouldn't make the same mistake twice in letting you live after what you did."

Arielle sighed. "Now _that _is a _long_ story."

"So make it short."

The young Queen arched an eyebrow at the boy. "Did anyone ever tell you that you're cheeky?"

This didn't faze Edmund one bit, and he merely smiled. "All the time. Don't change the subject."

"Perceptive too." Arielle muttered. Her fingers drummed out a rhythm on her thigh as her mind travelled 600 years to the past.

* * *

Edmund watched as Arielle thought, her hazel eyes unfocused, but contemplative. For someone so hated and feared by the White Witch, Lady Arielle looked quite normal. Though dressed as a man would, Arielle appeared to be no different than his sisters whereas the Witch, despite her human appearance, had something otherworldly about her.

It was the eyes. When Edmund had stared at the Witch in terror, the pools of black had no emotion to them but rage and contempt. Jadis did not care for anyone but herself, only covering that fact to attract followers to her army.

Arielle differed. Despite being a traitor, her hazel eyes held no distrust or contempt. Just the opposite - relief, kindness, and approval when she had noticed him trying to determine her trustworthiness.

Then she'd smiled, a true sincere smile that seemed to bring down the walls surrounding her and for a moment, Edmund saw a new rush of emotions in the lady's eyes. In that moment, she had aged, the dominant green in the eyes of a girl nearing womanhood becoming the aged amber of a woman burdened with the worries and grief of a past Queen.

He could see those eyes now as Arielle struggled to explain what had caused centuries of hatred. "Jadis possessed a mirror." She finally said. "One that could be used to view anyone or anything in Narnia, so long as she knew what she wished to see and there was a reflective surface in the vicinity. On a large enough surface, Jadis could appear and communicate with anyone nearby."

"Unbeknownst to any in the castle, Jadis spied upon the royal family for 600 years, undoubtedly looking for a weakness she could exploit." Here, Arielle smiled wryly. "Unfortunately for her, humans can be notoriously stubborn." Edmund smiled as well, thinking of his siblings and himself.

Then her smile vanished. "In my fourteenth year, three years after I had entered Narnia, King Gale II and I crossed paths on one of his rides through the Lantern Wastes. He brought me back to his castle and named me Lady of the Lantern Wastes."

Edmund gave Arielle a doubtful look. "Just like that?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, there was a but more to it than that, but for it to be a short story the details will have to wait. So, at court I met another human, Sir Gariv, who was a _very_ distant relative to the King and one of his best warriors. He had two years on me, and about thirty centimeters. We became friends and sparring partners. He taught me to wield a blade and staff, and refined my skills with a bow and knife."

"This is where Jadis comes in." Arielle's face darkened. "King Gale II died a few months after my eighteenth birthday with no heir. Having been Champion during his reign, it fell to me to keep the foreigners from seizing the throne until a new King or Queen could be chosen."

"Hold on." Edmund interrupted. "How could someone from a different country take the throne?"

Arielle shrugged. She had never understood either. "Any Son of Adam or Daughter of Eve may claim the Narnian throne in the instance of no heir. This includes humans from other countries such as Archenland or Calmorene - the latter of which has not been on friendly terms with Narnia for centuries. After King Gale's death, everyone thought that Gariv would become the new King, including me. He was smart, strong, knew his way around politics and strategy and had a strong moral sense."

"Aslan surprised everyone when he declared that I would be the next Queen. Shocked the entire court. Everyone knew I didn't want the position, but two weeks later, a golden circlet graced my head. From then on, I was Queen Arielle the Faithful, with a lot of work to do. I had so much work to do, that it often took me away from meals, spars, and other things that I used to spend time with my best friend."

Though her face and tone were carefully neutral, a flash of guilt in Arielle's eyes did not go unnoticed by the dark haired boy. "Gariv began to change, so gradually, that anyone who spent a good amount of time around him - like his soldiers - wouldn't notice a thing. He became more withdrawn, not as cheerful, and more concerned with his appearance. His temper shortened while his tongue sharpened. It took me two years to realize something was seriously wrong. I discovered Jadis had been using her mirror to enchant Gariv."

"How did you break it then?" Edmund frowned. The Witch's magic was powerful. Did Arielle know magic of her own to counter it?

"Cognitive recalibration." Arielle said. Edmund shot her a confused look. "I hit him really hard in the head." She clarified, pointing to the metal ring at the end of her staff. Edmund winced. That would certainly do the job. "When Gariv regained consciousness, his former personality returned, along with a burden of guilt for his unwilling actions."

"That's how you knew." Edmund realized, recalling her earlier analysis of his guilt. Arielle nodded.

"Though only I knew of the enchantment placed on him, Gariv couldn't bear to be around me anymore. He requested to be put on as many patrols as possible and I obliged, hoping it would help." Arielle pinched the bridge of her nose to stave off tears. "He died on one a month later. After the funeral, Jadis appeared to me in my mirror, blaming me for his death. If I hadn't interfered, Gariv may not have died. She claimed she loved him - as much as someone like Jadis can love anything. In response, I broke her magic mirror by putting my fist through it."

Silence fell for a minute while Edmund digested all of this. It explained a lot - Jadis's hatred for Arielle, her anger when Edmund spurned her, and the shattered mirror near her throne. "She hasn't forgiven you." He told Arielle.

The brunette snorted, green returning to her gaze. "I can say the same. Jadis can throw whatever she wants at me. I'll pick it up and throw it back, but I'll die before I let her kill another one of my charges."

The conviction in her voice sent a chill down Edmund's spine, and for a moment, he almost felt bad for the Witch.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Wow this chapter is long. I would have made it a bit shorter to match the lengths of the other chapters, but I didn't really want to cut the conversation in half. Don't expect the next chapters to be this long either, most will continue to be about 2,000 to 2,500 words long.**

**I also apologize for the relative lateness of the chapter. Edmund was not cooperating with me, and I still do not think I got his personality down right, so I'll apologize for that as well.**

**Reviews are always welcome, as are any questions, predictions, or suggestions you may have.**

**Farewell for now,**

**~Lassie**


	4. Reality of a Situation

_The important thing is this: to be able, at any moment, to sacrifice what we are for what we could become._ ~ Maharishi Mahesh Yogi

Disclaimer: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia, be it book or movie. I only own Arielle and any deviation from the established plot.

* * *

_When Winter holds its breath_

_and Spring begins anew_

_a Sacrificial death_

_upon the Table entombed_

* * *

_Last Time:_

_Silence fell for a minute while Edmund digested all of this. It explained a lot - Jadis's hatred for Arielle, her anger when Edmund spurned her, and the shattered mirror near her throne. "She hasn't forgiven you." He told Arielle._

_The brunette snorted, green returning to her gaze. "I can say the same. Jadis can throw whatever she wants at me. I'll pick it up and throw it back, but I'll die before I let her kill another one of my charges."_

_The conviction in her voice sent a chill down Edmund's spine, and for a moment, he almost felt bad for the Witch._

* * *

Arielle and Edmund conversed for a while longer as the sun commenced it's daily painting across the eastern sky. Slowly, the camp began to stir, with the centaurs not yet awake coming out to join their brethren for an early breakfast, the cats and other beasts leaving the camp temporarily to hunt or gather their own meals.

"Edmund!" A sharp cry called, catching their attention. Arielle looked to see Peter placing a restraining hand on Lucy's shoulder, and the confused look she gave him.

She smiled. "It appears your siblings rise earlier than I expected." She stood, offering one hand to Edmund. He gratefully took it. "I'll let you get some rest now." Edmund nodded, carefully walking down the side of the hill, Arielle only a few steps behind him. As the youngest Pevensies embraced, Arielle looked Susan and Peter in the eye. "Edmund and I have discussed his previous decisions. There is no need to further revisit the past." Susan nodded, getting a hug from Edmund next.

Peter's gaze caught Arielle's, and the gratitude in his eyes could not be measured. Arielle merely gave him a gentle smile and a slight bow of her head before she left for her tent. Had she looked back, she would have seen Peter pull Edmund into a crushing hug.

However, she did hear him say teasingly, "Try not to wander off again, alright?"

* * *

Despite Arielle's lack of sleep, the Queen joined Peter, Susan, and Lucy for breakfast after going to her tent to put on a red leather vest and grab a few things. Their mood had drastically improved with the return of their brother, and Lucy spent the meal telling Arielle what Ainkirk taught her the previous day.

Catching a lull in the young girl's chatter, Susan asked Arielle, "What are we doing today?"

Arielle swallowed a mouthful of toast before answering. "Despite his lack of sleep, I want Edmund awake for lunch so he can start catching up to the rest of you. You three on the other hand, are going to be productive. Susan, Lucy, your teachers will meet you in the same place you practiced yesterday. Peter, Capricus is out on patrol until lunch, so you'll be with me until then."

Peter nodded. After breakfast, when Susan and Lucy left for their morning lessons, he followed Arielle to a large patch of shade under a study oak. Pausing so Arielle could fetch a large bag from her tent, he felt somewhat confused when she leaned her staff against the trunk of the tree and promptly sat down. "Milady?"

"Yes, Your Highness?" Arielle replied sweetly. Peter frowned at the title - he wasn't royalty. Then he glanced at Arielle to see her raised eyebrow and the wicked humor in her hazel eyes and realization hit him.

"Fine, _Arielle_." He emphasized. "What are - " He trailed off. Arielle pulled out a familiar wooden board and thirty - two familiar pieces, hand crafted out of oak and mahogany. The wood looked worn around the edges, but held a dull shine that came from years of use. "Chess?"

"Do you play?" She asked, setting up the game. Deft hands quickly placed the pieces, 'white' on his side, 'black' on hers.

Peter sat down, moving Rhindon so the blade wouldn't tangle with his legs. "A little. I played a couple games with my father before - " Before the war called him away to fight, he finished silently, swallowing the lump that appeared in his throat.

If Arielle noticed, she gave no indication of it. "My father taught me to play before he died. In turn, I taught my brothers. The Twins - George and Lucas - don't have a preference for the game, they're too impatient. Ronald shows promise though. We have an ongoing game that we try to get to when there's time." Hazel eyes darkened to amber. "Lately there hasn't been much of that." The Queen shook her head as if to banish unwanted thoughts. "You wish to practice your swordsmanship, Peter, and I understand. However, it is necessary that you have a good grasp on battle tactics, the sooner the better."

"Why?" Peter asked. Nonetheless, he moved a white pawn forward.

Arielle responded by moving one of her knights. "Monarchs have arguably the toughest job in the kingdom. Not only do you have to be a skilled politician and diplomat to deal with every jumped up representative from who knows where, you have make laws and enforce them, deal with complaints from the common populace, merchants, and other nobles, while at the same time making sure your people are fed, the economy isn't going to hell, and that Narnia has proper defenses. Narnia isn't the only country in this world. Archenland and Calormene have long been our neighbors, with the latter never being on good terms with us. Should Narnia be attacked, it falls to the Monarch to lead Narnia's armies and protect the civilians."

She glanced up and managed to hold back a laugh at the horrified expression on Peter's face. "When do you sleep? or eat?" He whispered.

"I mostly ate at my work table." Arielle shrugged. "I had a personal library where I kept my most used references - books, maps, diagrams - so I could look up information quickly. If I had to work late, I could sleep a couple hours on the couch." She'd lost count of how many times Gariv had told her that she needed to rest more often. "It's a thankless job."

"No kidding." Peter muttered under his breath.

"You'll have your siblings to help you." Arielle reassured. "However, as the eldest, you will always have the most responsibility, the most work. Do not let it consume you. Get out and spar, or go for a ride. Hunt. Read a book perhaps." She captured one of his pieces. "Play a game of chess." Peter returned the favor and his knight took hers. He frowned when he lost that same night to Arielle's rook.

As Arielle's pieces captured more and more of Peter's, the blonde took a moment to study her playing style. It was vastly different from his father's, who took his time before moving each piece. Arielle on the other hand seemed to look at the board for only a few seconds before moving a piece. Completely random, yet each move forced him to rethink his original plan.

In the end, he lost, and it took Arielle only half an hour to win. She reset the pieces. "Do you know why you lost, Peter?" He shook his cautiously. Arielle nodded. "Then we'll play again until you see it."

They played three more games before lunch, but Peter still couldn't tell Arielle why he'd lost the games. Arielle packed away the game, a thoughtful air about her. She bid him to go ahead and eat, that he did well, but Peter couldn't help but feel like he disappointed her. Then he wondered if he even cared. He frowned when he couldn't come up with an answer.

Lunch was a subdued affair. Lucy and Susan wearily ate, exhausted from their morning lessons. Edmund on the other hand, never had an empty mouth to talk with and Peter had too many thoughts running through his head to notice the lack of conversation. Arielle simply enjoyed the silence.

When everyone finished, Peter and his sisters returned to the practice fields, leaving an increasingly dejected Edmund behind. Lucy spared him an apologetic look before she scampered away. Edmund sighed. He really shouldn't be surprised, should be used to it, but the bitterness of rejection that ballooned in the pit of his stomach came as an unpleasant feeling, like a unwanted guest that keeps showing up on your front doorstep.

Why did he always have to be left behind, excluded?

So wrapped up in his thoughts, Edmund barely had time to react as a dark shape flew at him from the right. Purely out of instinct for self preservation, he turned and caught the bundle with both hands. The unexpected weight that came with the leather wrapped steel threw him off balance, but he did not fall or drop his catch.

Bewildered and slightly irritated, Edmund glanced up to see Arielle nodding with approval. "Your reflexes are excellent. Not many could have caught those, assuming they had not dodged them instead." The two swords were simple - one a hand and a half, the other a short sword - but their weight told Edmund that they were solidly crafted. Curious, he unsheathed one and held it out. Perfectly balanced. "Unlike Peter, who uses a shield and a longsword, you are more suited for dual blades."

The boy frowned. So even she thought he didn't match up to his perfect brother.

"This is because you are faster, and far more precise than Peter." Startled, Edmund jerked his gaze back to Arielle's stern one. "You also possess a heightened sense of situational awareness that a dual bladesman needs. As the most skilled in the camp, I will be teaching you."

She immediately started, showing Edmund how to correctly and quickly fasten the belts and scabbards so that his swords could be easily drawn. She demonstrated the proper way to draw them and fend off an attack at the same time. Arielle discovered Edmund to be a fast learner, picking up stances, blocks, and attacks within a few tries.

Arielle found she had enough time to even teach Edmund the proper way to wield his swords double handed, focusing more on power. "Very good." She commented after Edmund executed a strong upwards slice meant to catch an enemy under the arm, where armor couldn't cover. Edmund smiled. "It's about half an hour until supper. Most likely your siblings will be returning from the practice fields. If you wish we can halt for now, and continue after you've eaten."

Edmund lowered his sword, his ten - year - old face aging before Arielle's eyes as he took in the state of the camp. "There will be war. A lot of good creatures are going to die, right?"

"Yes."

"There's a good chance we might lose." Brown met amber, but unlike other times, it was Arielle who found herself at the end of a piercing gaze. She didn't answer, unwilling to lie about something so important yet unable to utter the near hopeless truth. Edmund broke eye contact first, seeing and understanding the bitter resignation in the Queen's eyes. "Then I'd better get back to work." He'd be damned if someone died for him because he did something stupid.

* * *

**Author's Note: **

**Thank you to all who have reviewed so far. Your support means a lot to me.**

**I also would like to thank those who have pointed out the minor discrepancies in the details.**

**Lady Hannah, who continually brings up good points, asked if Arielle's eyes are hazel or green, since I vary the colors. **

**Alright. Arielle's eyes are hazel, which is a mixture of brown and green. There can be more green than brown or vice versa, and the brown can be varying shades, all the way to an amber. Arielle has a mixture of green and amber.**

**Arielle's eyes also change color somewhat. Edmund noticed that when Arielle is her usual self, green is the dominant color to her eyes. However, when Arielle let Edmund see the 'burdened Queen,' her eyes seemed to become more amber colored.**

**I hope that clears up any confusion. And Lady Hannah, I _like_ nitpicks.**

**Thanks,**

**~Lassie**


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